


Until Next Time

by RestInReesesPieces



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Brief mention of past torture, F/M, Happy Ending?, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, based on a prompt, mentions of the chair, please read it, you won't really notice it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RestInReesesPieces/pseuds/RestInReesesPieces
Summary: He stared at the bodies on the ground, at the girl covered in blood. Her eyes narrowed as she stood up. "You're late."I found this prompt online and instantly thought of Bucky and Natasha, and since I was in the creative mood I wrote this.It's probably not very good, like this summary, but it's out there anyway. Enjoy!





	Until Next Time

James was confused. The HYDRA base he’d broken into was already cleared, blood lining the corridors with a red river. He gingerly made his away inside, rifle scope held to his eye and finger not quite on the trigger. His boots made a squelching sound as he journeyed through the base, and James grimaced at the thought of having to clean his shoes from the rusty liquid. There was a continuous banging sound at the end of the hallway, and well aware this may be a trap, he set out to investigate. He could feel his heartbeat in his mouth, but pressed on. He’d had enough of hurting people, and wanted to help for a change. If he saved some HYDRA scum, then let it be some twisted fate and let them get arrested. 

He paused, already near to the source of the noise, he had to be careful. Holding his breath he edged round the corner, preparing for an officer to lunge at him and drag him to the chair. The chair. He shut his eyes tight and willed himself not to think of the monstrosity sitting there, waiting to welcome him back with electrifying arms. He could deal with that later, right now he had to flush out whoever was hiding here and hope to god they were some semblance to an ally. Taking a deep breath he rolled against the wall into the room and pulled the gun up to his eye. He stared at the bodies on the floor, only one of them moving. At the back, hand cuffed to a radiator, sat one of the lab technicians. This one had been particularly nasty when treating James, and so he didn’t feel any remorse for his position. The technician was hitting a rusted metal pipe against the radiator, creating the tinny clang that had attracted James. He strode over and threw the pipe into the opposite corner, revelling in the blissful silence. The technician paled slightly under James’ glare and opened his mouth to start babbling. 

But James felt someone watching him from behind. Punching the technician in the mouth, because he could, he then spun around and was greeted with the same sight as before. This time he looked a little closer, he recognised most of the carnage, either officers used to contain and punish him or technicians meant to repair and freeze him. But there was one he knew from somewhere else, a place that was foggy in his mind. The red head opened her eyes and winked at him, sensing she’d been caught, but she remained on the floor, apprehending James’ suspicion. 

“You’re late,” she said lightly, showing unnervingly white teeth through her blood stained smirk. James was reminded of a shark and thought the resemblance was uncanny.

“Who are you,” he muttered, voice rough. 

“You don’t remember me?” She asked, pouting at him. James wanted to sigh, but she could be a threat and just remained silent. “I was on the bridge?”

She was a friend of Rogers. The scrawniest punk in Brooklyn. Wait, that was wrong. “Thought you were smaller.” Yes. Rogers was bigger now, he’d changed. Much like James had. He growled at her and she smiled pettily back at him. Why was she like this? 

“You know Rogers then?” He grunted.

“Yup,” she responded, popping the “p”. “I knew you once upon a time as well.” 

James tried to reach back into his memory to find her, receiving images of startling red, swift pain and stolen kisses. He wasn’t certain, but he was as sure as he could ever be. “Natalia?” He whispered. She nodded, a look of intense sadness flickered in her eyes before it was replaced by her neutral resting face. 

“I thought you wouldn’t remember. After what they did to you. What they did to us.”

It was James’ turn to nod. 

“I don’t. Not fully anyway. There’s glimpses and then you’re gone. My own personal ghost.” 

She smiled sadly at the irony. Herself being the ghost’s ghost. 

“I thought that would be the case,” she responded, “it gets better. I promise.” 

“I don’t think I can trust that. You’re one of the best liars Natalia, and I may be too far from recovery. But thank you, for your consideration.”   
They stared at each other for a moment, neither daring to break their gaze. In another life they had been one, a deadly couple. But now they were broken shells, trying to project themselves as functional. They just smiled sadly at each other, reliving the past, not hoping for the future.

“Spasibo,”* He said softly, before turning to leave. 

“Do skorogo,”* she said to his retreating back.  
He smiled. Until next time indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> spasibo = thank you   
> do skorogo = until next time. At least I really hope they do. I used google translate for the Russian.   
> Hit me up on tumblr : restinreesespieces


End file.
